


against the sky

by PinkCanary



Series: all we want (and all we ever could have hoped to be) [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bravenlarke, F/F, F/M, mostly just fluff guys I have no excuses, stormclouds verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 11:04:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11667834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkCanary/pseuds/PinkCanary
Summary: Clarke had gotten the front gate keys from Kane.(Bellamy didn’t even want to know what she had told him they were doing.  In fact, it was probably for the best that he never found out.  Anyway, the place was used for school trips at various times of the year, but nothing was ever scheduled for September, Clarke assured them, and so here they were.)





	against the sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gohandinhand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gohandinhand/gifts).



> Happy Anniversary to Sarah, who sent me a million messages freaking out about Bravenlarke on this day two years ago. 
> 
> Seriously guys, it's turned out pretty damn good. 
> 
> (Also, this is fluff that I have no excuse for. There is no plot. Also, I've been gone for a long time but I have a lot of excuses for that. Anyone want to discuss queer theory/colonialism/Internet history? Anyone??? No? Okay cool. Have this short little fic, anyway.)

Clarke had gotten the front gate keys from Kane.

(Bellamy didn’t even want to know what she had told him they were doing. In fact, it was probably for the best that he never found out. Anyway, the place was used for school trips at various times of the year, but nothing was ever scheduled for September, Clarke assured them, and so here they were.)

They picked their way along the trail that lead from the cabins towards the lake. At one point, just a few years ago, they had known every rock and root along the path. But now, Bellamy stumbled on the once-familiar terrain, dimly lit in the failing sunlight.

“You know,” Raven said, snarky, “if you were planning on killing us, the apartment would be much more convenient.”

“You know where the knife drawer is,” Bellamy added.

“Or electricity! You could stage a whole “hair dryer in the bathtub” situation,” Raven said, thoughtful. Perhaps _too_ thoughtful, given the context.

Clarke huffed. “What? I can’t be sentimental, ever?”

“That’s really Bellamy’s domain,” Raven pointed out. And yeah, that was probably true.

Whatever retort Clarke had been working on was cut short as the inky blackness of the trees ahead of them suddenly gave way, revealing the pale reflection of moonlight on the still lake. The night was clear — perfect, really — and the stars above them seemed vast and endless. Bright pinpoints of fire in the velvety sky.

“Shit,” Raven breathed, from behind Bellamy. “I forgot about this.”

They had taken it for granted, back then — the simple fact that they had gotten to spend so much time out here in the calm silence of nature. It had taken a backseat to the long days spent chasing around unruly pre-teens, and to the evenings spent in each others company. They had laid out under the stars on countless nights, but they had merely seemed like a backdrop to what had been building between the three of them. 

Now, though, with four years of hindsight, Bellamy can really appreciate what they had during that time of their lives. Both this, of course, but also the simple fact that they’d been able to just _exist_ in a kind of stillness for those weeks. It isn’t as if their life isn’t wonderful now, but they’re all so busy, and it isn’t at all like those breathless first days, where they had really existed for each other.

Anyway, those early days of a relationship are seldom what an actual _relationship_ is like, and Bellamy wouldn’t trade what they have now for anything. Just knowing that they each had two other people who they could rely on completely, no matter what. Having a place and a family to call home. Someone to make dinner on shitty days, and cuddle when needed, and stay that hell out of the way when necessary. 

Patience. Understanding. Companionship.

A past and a future.

Still, it’s nice to remember those early days when everything seemed bright and possible. 

As if reading his thoughts, Raven started carefully picking her way down the slope and to the dock that bordered the lake.

“Shit, guys! Do you remember…?”

Of course he remembered. “I had splinters in my back for weeks, Raven,” Bellamy said, but he couldn’t stop himself from grinning widely at the memory. 

“You did not seem to be complaining at the time,” she shot back and no, he definitely had not been complaining. 

They end up sitting on the dock, feet dangling into the cool late-summer water, and passing a bottle of white wine back and forth between them. 

(“I could have brought wine glasses,” Clake said, sheepish, “We own those now. But…. nostalgia.”)

And it’s perfect, really.

Especially when Clarke starts to get flustered at a certain point.

“I mean, we can’t make it “official” official, obviously. And all of our friends already joke about us being boring and married, but…”

“Wait, Clarke,” Raven starts, suddenly straighting up. “Are you asking us to marry you?”

“I mean, obviously not _married_ , but we could still have a ceremony if you wanted to. Or not. Or just get rings? That would be fine, too—” She was cut off suddenly by Raven pressing her lips against hers.

The kiss was brief, but when Raven pulled away it was only far enough so that she could speak, her lips brushing Clarke’s as she said the words. “What do you want, babe?”

“You,” Clarke said, immediate. “Whatever makes the two of you happy. We’ll do that.”

They were framed by the moonlight, Raven still clutching the mostly-empty wine bottle in one hand, as she pressed her forehead against Clarke’s, and _shit_ , Bellamy had never loved them both as much as in that very moment.

“Any ideas, Bell?” Raven asked, still not moving away from Clarke.

He chuckled, bringing his arms up so that he could embrace them both at once. _His girls._

“Octavia will actually kill me if there is a chance for a wedding and she isn’t invited,” he pointed out, finally. 

“So I guess that’s settled?” Clarke said, and he could see her grin in the darkness. It was quite possible that he also saw the glint of moisture in her lashes, but he wasn’t going to be the one to point it out. And they called _him_ the sentimental one.

“Yeah,” Raven said, decisive, before burryng her head into Clarke’s neck and Bellamy’s shoulder.

“Settled.”


End file.
